


Drop Our Anchors in a Storm

by masterassassin



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, a little bit of angst, a whole lot of tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterassassin/pseuds/masterassassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the right time takes years to come. Dallon is willing to wait that long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this little idea in my head for quite a while and here is finally the result.  
> Thanks to Chriss and that one anon on tumblr.

Brendon was drunk. Dallon, of course, wasn’t. Being kinda Mormon and all.   
  
As of three hours ago Dallon had just finished playing his first ever show as Panic!’s bassist. He had to admit it was an exhilarating feeling.   
  
All of them were hyped. The first successful show of a tour was always something special. So they went to celebrate at a nearby club. The closed off area they had been lead to sat above the actual dance floor, overlooking the sweating crowd.   
  
Dallon leaned against the rail, back to the grinding mass below him, glad they had their own private space. He watched his band members and tour staff dance to the thumping beat, sipping on a fruity non-alcoholic drink.    
  
“You should dance!” Came a yell from Dallon’s left. He turned around towards it, suddenly faced with Brendon who held a drink of his own. But definitely one with more than enough booze Dallon figured, going by the smell and the way Brendon’s voice was even louder and more obnoxious than usual.   
  
“And you should maybe slow down a bit,” Dallon laughed as Brendon tripped over his own feet, stumbling against him. Dallon caught him by his upper arms, careful with the sloshing glass in Brendon’s hand.   
  
“You’re no fun!” Brendon exclaimed but let himself be lead over to one of the sitting booths. Dallon pushed him down onto the leather and sat down next to him.   
  
“Oh, believe me it’s way funnier to watch all of you drunken morons from a distance.”   
  
“Who are you calling a fucking moron, Dallon?”   
  
“Are you actually trying to convince me you aren’t one,” Dallon chuckled, “Almost falling over yourself?”   
  
“Shut up, I’m not that drunk.” Brendon swallowed down the last bit of his drink and leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes with a sigh. “That was a fantastic show. Good bass playing there. Good job.”   
  
Dallon smiled, shifting so he could rest his back against the cushions as well, head leaning up against them next to Brendon’s. He stared at the ceiling, suddenly tired.   
“Yeah, it was.”    
  
He felt Brendon’s leg press up against the side of his thigh and turned his head to the side. Brendon was looking at him, eyes glazed over with the buzz from the alcohol but shining nevertheless. His lips were slightly parted and his tongue darted out to lick at his plush bottom lip. Dallon found himself wondering if he could still taste the sweetness of his drink on them.   
  
Brendon’s eyes were fixated on Dallon’s, briefly flickering down to Dallon’s mouth, then up again. There was a roar in Dallon’s ears, drowning out everything around him. His vision was tunneling in on Brendon. He saw him swallow, gaze unwavering.   
  
Brendon looked like he was going to kiss Dallon.   
God, did Dallon want him to.   
  
Brendon squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing a hand over his face and the moment was broken.   
“Okay, maybe I am looped.”   
  
“Yeah… you are,” Dallon agreed belatedly, but Brendon had already walked over to talk to Spencer.


	2. Two

“You didn’t have to tell him that, jerk!” Brendon sounded a little affronted but he was smiling nonetheless. 

Dallon laughed. “Yes, I did.”  
They had just left the radio station, or more precisely the studio, and were on their way to the staircase leading them back down to the parking lot. The elevator was, unfortunately, out of order so they had to walk.

“Payback for that time you told that one dude that I played Ukulele and he pestered me about it all evening.”

Brendon smirked up at him.  
“You deserved it. You were a little shit that day!”

“Oh now what did I do then?” Dallon asked, faking innocence even though he really didn’t know anymore if he did do something.

Brendon squinted his eyes at him, pondering.  
“I… don’t know but I bet you were.”

Dallon grinned in return, eyebrows raised but didn’t say anything. By now they’d reached the deserted staircase. It seemed weirdly clinical, white beton walls and metallic gray rails.

“Besides,” and the smirk was firmly back in place on Brendon’s face, “when aren’t you being a little shit?”

Dallon opened his mouth to say something in return but Brendon, who’d now sat down on the banister, kept talking.

“Or an arrogant hipster?” he laughed, ducking out of the way and sliding down the rail when Dallon swatted at him.

Dallon swore and went after Brendon who had already reached the next landing, not wanting to let that one slide. Brendon waited for him to get closer, grinning mockingly at him once Dallon had almost reached him before sliding down the next rail.

“You are a dirty cheater!”

“Dirty? Yes. But in no way am I cheating Mr. Weekes, or did we agree on any rules I might have missed beforehand?”   
Once again he was just a few stairs ahead of Dallon, but the next jump from the banister was rather ungraceful and made Brendon falter for just a moment. Enough for Dallon to lunge at him, about to grip his shoulder.

Well Dallon did not calculate for Brendon to move out of his way in the last second and Dallon saw him laughing at him for a second before Brendon’s eyes widened and his hand suddenly darted forward.

“Watch out!”

But it was too late for Dallon to catch himself before he fell backwards. Instinctively he reached out a hand and actually managed to grip Brendon’s outstretched one. He felt Brendon trying to pull him back up for a second before the force of his fall made Brendon lose his footing and he went stumbling after Dallon.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds and probably looked ridiculous but Dallon did not care, grimacing as his side hit the cold beton floor. Brendon knocking the breath out of him again shortly after when he fell on top on Dallon.  
Now they’d luckily been on the last, short flight of stairs and only tumbled down a few steps but Dallon was still sure he’d bruise.

Dallon opened his eyes which he’d had closed bracing himself to hit the ground, and blinked up at Brendon doing the same at him. Dallon’s right hand was still kind of holding on to Brendon’s arm, fingers twisted into the thin material of his sweater. His left arm was holding himself up from the floor. Brendon’s left hand was also still gripping Dallon’s arm and he braced himself with his other next to Dallon’s head.

Brendon’s face, just a few inches away from his own was all Dallon could see.

“You gotta be more careful,” Brendon said, voice quiet and low, “I still need you.”  
He didn’t look Dallon in the eyes when he said it. Dallon’s breath got stuck in his throat anyway.

Brendon’s gaze shifted to the other side, flickering over Dallon’s face but not settling anywhere as if he was afraid to look Dallon in the eyes. When he briefly met them he bit his bottom lip slightly before his eyes returned to a spot just below Dallon’s left ear.  
Dallon couldn’t help staring up at him, following the movement of his eyes and he found himself swallowing hard. 

At once, Brendon was looking at him, gaze full of determination, pupils dilated. Dallon’s hand twitched where it was still gripping Brendon’s sleeve and his lips parted slightly. He suddenly knew exactly what Brendon was going to do and his heart was beating wildly in his chest.

Brendon came a little closer. This is it, Dallon thought, bracing himself for what seemed inevitable now. Brendon was so close Dallon could feel his breath-

Brendon blinked.   
Then he let his head drop down to Dallon’s chest, forehead resting against his collarbone. Dallon heard him chuckle and mumble something unintelligible.

Dallon took a deep breath. “Come on, get off me now.”


	3. Three

Brendon did get pre-show jitters sometimes. Dallon knew that much, he’d experienced it first hand a few times. Brendon would be more jumpy than usual and barely stand still, breaking out into random songs and he wouldn’t drink before the show. Yeah, Dallon did know the signs by now.  
  
But it’d never been as bad as it was now. At least Dallon hadn’t seen him like this before. Sure, they were about to perform at a festival and that was always something else. At their solo shows everyone turning up would be there to see them. At a festival there were people who’d never even heard of Panic and Brendon wanted to impress them all.  
  
Brendon’s nervous pacing, finger drumming and endless whistling had driven Ian and Spencer out of the room already half an hour ago. But Dallon didn’t really mind. He sat on the couch, bass in his lap mindlessly playing some tunes to warm up his fingers, glancing up at Brendon once in awhile. It was really bad.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Brendon stopped in his tracks, turning around slowly as if he’d forgotten someone was still in the room, even though Dallon had been playing all the time.

“What?” he asked irritably.

“Your favorite color? I just realized I don’t know. Which is weird considering how long we’ve known each other,” Dallon clarified calmly.

“It’s red.”  
He seemed irritated still, turning away from Dallon again to resume his pacing.

But Dallon stopped him, “Skittles, right? Your favorite candy?”

Brendon frowned at him.  
“Yeah. Gummy worms, too.”

“When did you get your first tattoo?”

Dallon smiled a little as Brendon raised his left arm instinctively, looking down at his ink-covered skin.

“I was nineteen.” He stroked over his forearm lightly. Tapping against the skin.

“Which one was it?” Dallon’s smile grew wider. His plan seemed to work out. He put his bass aside, resting his elbows on his knees. Chin on his hands he looked up at Brendon who scratched his neck.

“The piano keys. The flowers came next.”  
Brendon let his arm sink down, huffing out a breath.

“That’s hibiscus, right?”

“Yeah, Hawaiian roots. Don’t want to lose that.”  
Brendon finally looked at Dallon, _really_ looked at him. Warmth spread in Dallon’s chest as they made eye contact.

“Favorite ice cream flavor?” Dallon asked, gaze unwavering.  
  
Brendon knitted his eyebrows at him before answering. His hands were still shaking.  
“Vanilla.”  
Dallon pulled a face at that.

“What’s wrong with vanilla ice cream?”  
  
“Nothing, it’s just boring.”  
  
Brendon opened his mouth to shoot something back but Dallon was quicker to ask.  
“If you could have one superpower which one would it be?”  
  
“Invisibility. What’s the point of this, Dallon?” Brendon asked, voice suspicious. His hands had stopped trembling almost completely. Dallon bypassed his question.  
  
“Suits you, you’d never stop being naked,” Dallon’s face got a little hot at that, “Favorite food?”  
  
“It’s pizza, Dal, but you know that. What the fuck is it with the random questions? We don’t really-” Brendon stopped talking abruptly. Dallon pulled him onto the couch by his belt loop. Brendon simply went along with the movement.  
  
A member of the tour staff appeared at the door, signaling them they had five minutes left before they needed to be behind the stage.  
  
“Yeah, we really don’t have the time for any more random questions don’t you think?” Dallon asked, continuing Brendon’s sentence. The corners of his mouth twitching.  
  
Realization dawned in Brendon’s eyes and he opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He just kept staring at Dallon wide-eyed. Dallon glanced down at Brendon’s hands lying completely still in his lap. Brendon followed his eyes.  
  
Brendon looked back up from his hands and found Dallon smiling at him, eyes soft.  
“How about we go meet up with Spence and Ian?”  
  
It took Brendon a moment to register that the question had been directed at him and he nodded belatedly. Dallon watched him lift a hand, reaching out towards Dallon’s face before he faltered, leaving it hanging in mid air. Brendon’s fingers twitched.  
  
“Let’s go then,” Dallon said quietly and stood up, grabbing his bass, “Come on.”


	4. Four

One of them was probably going to die. Dallon hoped it wasn’t him.   
He was currently sitting  _ on top of their tour bus _ , legs dangling over one side and busy ducking out of the way of any limb going over his head as Brendon and Ian fought out what looked like some sort of a lightsaber battle only without the lightsabers.   
  
“Just for the record, I’m not catching either of you!” came Zack’s voice from the ground next to the bus. How did Dallon end up here and Zack didn’t?    
Oh right, Brendon had somehow convinced the band to climb the bus in the middle of the night. Apparently to now try to break his own neck.   
  
There was a triumphant whoop behind Dallon and a moment later Brendon flopped down next to him; sweaty and only in his briefs, panting hard. He was grinning.   
  
“Told you I’d win!” he shouted over his shoulder to where Ian was now lying on his back on the far end of the roof, chest rising rapidly. Ian raised his middle finger at him without looking up. A laugh echoed through the darkness from where Spencer was sitting.   
  
It would have been pitch black around them if it wasn’t for the crescent moon illuminating the bus roof with its cold light. The only noise to be heard around them were the chirping of the crickets, the sound of the faraway ocean waves and Brendon’s laboured breathing. The setting was almost romantic.   
  
Brendon’s breaths had returned to their normal rate and he let himself fall down onto his back, dragging Dallon with him with a hand on his shoulder. Reluctantly Dallon went along. Though, as soon as he was lying down he had to admit that the view was stunning. Out here without the city’s light pollution the stars shone brightly, dotting the night sky.   
  
“Damn, that was  _ fun! _ ” Brendon shouted the last word into the night, startling Dallon.   
  
“And you just barely managed not to kill us or yourself,” Dallon complained but it really wasn’t too bad up here.   
  
“Oh, come on. Loosen up.”    
Brendon bumped his shoulder against Dallon’s and pointed upwards. “Do you know any constellations?”   
  
Dallon followed Brendon’s outstretched hand with his eyes until he was looking at the stars. Down where their legs were dangling over the side of the roof Dallon felt Brendon’s bare foot press against his calf.   
  
Dallon raised his arm as well, drawing an imaginary line into the night sky.   
“That there between that little cluster of stars and the bright one over there,” Dallon said pointing at a particularly bright star, “that’s libra.”   
  
Brendon shifted and Dallon saw he’d turned towards him, his foot was quite distracting where it was now even more firmly pressed against Dallon’s leg.   
  
“Really?”, Brendon asked, sounding impressed. Dallon stared at him for a second before breaking out into a wide grin.   
  
“No, you dipshit. Of course it isn’t.”   
  
“Oh, shut up!” Brendon swatted his hand at Dallon who’d had quite some practice at ducking out of the way of something coming his way by now.   
  
Brendon sighed and rolled back onto his back. His toes were stroking up the side of Dallon’s leg now and Dallon wrapped his own foot around Brendon’s tentatively.   
  
“This is nice,” Brendon muttered quietly.   
  
“Yeah, yeah it is.”


	5. Five

“You know what, fuck this!” Brendon pulled the untied band of the bowtie from around his neck and threw it towards a chair in the corner, frustration clearly written all over his face. 

“I’ll just leave it.”

The  _ Vices & Virtues _ tour outfit technically included a bowtie and suspenders or a vest for Brendon, but now it looked like he’d only wear the vest today. Unless...   
  
“Want me to help you with that?”    
Dallon was already walking over to where the bowtie was lying on the ground. He picked it up and brushed a little dust off it.   
  
“Uhm, sure?” It was more a question than an answer.   
  
“It’s no problem, I know how it works.” Dallon stepped up to stand in front of Brendon, pulling up his shirt collar to wrap the tie around it. He smoothed the collar down again and straightened the band of the bowtie to have one side be a little longer. Then he folded it over the other side.   
Their height difference made it a little hard for Dallon to really see what he was doing so he leaned forward.   
  
“Lift your chin up a bit.”    
Brendon did as he was told and Dallon continued to pull the fabric into place, making sure he didn’t bind it too tightly. He heard Brendon huff and his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Dallon glanced up at him and saw that Brendon had his eyes closed.    
  
Eventually, Dallon pulled the finished knot into place. And it looked at least halfway decent. He stuck two fingers between the tie and Brendon’s neck to see if it was too tight but it seemed fine. Brendon sucked in a surprised breath.   
  
“Sorry,” Dallon mumbled, “all done. Should be fine like that.”   
Brendon tipped his head back down and Dallon looked up at him with a small smile on his face. They were eye level now and Dallon wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Brendon look at him like this - caramel chocolate brown eyes illuminated by the light falling in from the window. It was kind of breathtaking.

  
Dallon tugged at the bowtie one last time to fasten it, eyes still locked with Brendon’s. He seemed a little flushed. Going by the heat in his own cheeks Dallon was sure he looked about the same. Brendon’s hand came up to touch the tie and their fingers brushed for a moment.   
  
“Your vest isn’t buttoned up.”   
It was nothing more than a statement of fact but Dallon’s fingers were already hovering over the first button. He started to do them up slowly, one by one, not once looking down at what he was doing. Dallon let his hand linger on the last button, finally looking at his fingers. He smoothed a hand down the front of the vest. Brendon let out a small sigh.   
  
Dallon didn’t know where to go from here, the tension between them almost tangible. It just wasn’t the right time. God, was it ever the right time?!   
  
Dallon straightened up with a sigh of his own, once again towering over Brendon now, he bent his head down. He kissed the top of Brendon’s head with his nose buried in soft dark hair. And if Brendon’s hand clenched into the material of Dallon’s shirt no one mentioned it.   



	6. And One

“Okay, no this doesn’t fucking work I’m going without it.”   
Brendon was pulling on the skinny black tie he’d just put on. He’d originally planned on going on stage wearing it but since Kenny and Dallon had both ditched theirs, he’d apparently now decided against it as well. Dallon rolled his eyes in exasperated affection.   
  
He saw the way Brendon tugged on the fabric and decided to take pity on him.   
“What me to help you with that?”   
  
Brendon looked up.   
“Uh yeah, sure.”   
  
Dallon stepped closer to him and suddenly he was reminded of a quite similar moment they’d shared a few years ago. A flicker of recollection in Brendon’s eyes told him he remembered it as well and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.   
  
Dallon reached up to undo the tie, eyes never leaving Brendon’s. He felt himself lean closer, pulling slightly on the silky material. Brendon took a small step towards him. Dallon swallowed hard.   
  
All of a sudden, Brendon shied back. He took a stuttering breath.   
“I can’t do this.”   
  
And with that he swiftly walked towards the door, pulled the tie loose from around his neck and let it drop down on the doorstep before he disappeared without even a glance back.   
  
Dallon was left staring after him, hand still raised where he was about to undo Brendon’s tie just seconds ago. Something cold seemed to settle in his stomach and his mind was running a mile a minute. An endless stream of  _ fuckfuckfuck  _ occupying his thoughts. He let his hands sink down slowly, took a deep breath and turned around to get ready. He could feel a lump forming in his throat.   
  
Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps coming from outside the door, quickly followed by Brendon turning around the corner. He was panting slightly, previously made hair a mess as if he’d run his hands through it multiple times.   
Dallon braced himself for the worst when Brendon strutted forward, slamming the door shut behind him, determined look in his eyes. Dallon felt glued into place.   
  
Then Brendon crashed into him.   
“Just fuck it all!” was the last thing Dallon heard before Brendon’s hands were buried in his hair and he was attacking Dallon’s mouth almost desperately, pushing him back against the wall.   
  
Dallon’s hands found their way to Brendon’s hips almost instinctively as they stumbled backwards and as soon as Dallon felt solid wall behind his back he pulled Brendon in, returning the kiss hungrily. God, how long he’d waited for that moment to finally happen. And just when he thought he’d fucked it all up for good.   
  
Certain now that Dallon wasn’t gonna push him away anytime soon, Brendon pressed himself harder against his body, shoving one leg between Dallon’s thighs. One hand slid down the side of Dallon’s face, encircling his jaw, fingertips pressing into Dallon’s hairline. Brendon groaned into the kiss.   
  
Dallon’s hands slipped under Brendon’s shirt, wandering up his back, tracing his spine. He spread his legs a little, allowing Brendon to grind his thigh up against Dallon’s crotch. It made them both moan loudly. Dallon tipped his head forward, Brendon drew him in even more, actually standing up on his tiptoes. His fingers still twisted into Dallon’s hair and the sensation made Dallon shiver with pleasure.   
  
Their kiss was getting messier the longer it went on; all heavy breathing, bitten lips and clashing teeth. Dallon felt his knees go a little weak and Christ he was already getting hard. As if on cue Brendon pushed his hips forward insistently, his need made more evident in the way Dallon could feel his erection digging into his thigh. Good that they were on the same page there. If only it wasn’t for the concert they were supposed to play in like twenty minutes.   
  
Dallon pulled his hands from beneath Brendon’s shirt, bringing them around to his front where he put them on his chest, pushing him away slightly. Brendon pressed himself against Dallon more firmly and kissed him hard a last time before withdrawing a little. Dallon was suddenly very glad for the wall giving him support when he was faced with Brendon, all dark eyes and blown pupils, hair in complete disarray and dark red swollen lips. Dallon’s knees actually threatened to give out under him.   
  
“Yeah, we-,” Brendon took a deep, steadying breath, running a hand through his hair only to mess it up even more, “we should probably stop and y’know get ready.” He chuckled.   
  
“I am more than ready, believe me,” Dallon muttered a little embarrassed while reaching down to adjust himself in his dress pants. His toes curled at the contact. Oh, how he wished he still had the time to go jerk off before the show. Thank God he had his bass to hide behind.   
  
Brendon dragged his hands over his thighs, resting them on his knees and huffing out a whistle.   
“Dude, everyone will see my dick out there.”   
  
“You can trust me when I say I’d love to help you out with that.”   
  
“Don’t say stuff like that! I might actually come on stage just thinking about your hands on me.”   
  
“Please, stop,” Dallon groaned.   
  
Brendon pulled the waistband of his pants away a little, shoving a hand down his briefs. Dallon saw him bite his lip as he moaned at the feeling. A few seconds later he grimaced and pressed his other hand over his crotch.   
“God, do I hate when I have to do this.”   
  
“Did you really just pinch your dick?”   
  
“Well, I gotta do  _ something _ .” Brendon pulled his hand out of his tight-ass pants again.   
  
“Also hold up - how often  _ do _ you have to do this?”   
  
Brendon looked at him incredulously. Dallon stared back.   
“Do you have at least the faintest of ideas how you look in that goddamn suit? I’ve gotten off thinking about you all sweaty after a show countless times. ”   
  
Dallon choked on his spit. “Please, stop talking.”    
His dick twitched in his pants.   
  
Brendon just smirked.   
  
There was a knock coming from the door and they could hear Zack’s voice telling them to finally get the fuck ready.   
  
“Guess we should then.”   
  
“Guess we should. Fix your goddamn hair first though.”   
  
“Asshole!”


End file.
